Unconquered (5 page)

Finally they arrived at New York. The ship stayed overnight unloading cargo, taking on fresh water and foodstuffs, and being loaded with cargo for England. The following morning, a bright blue and gold October Day,
The Royal George
sailed up the East River into the Long Island Sound. They would be home by the following day.

Just before dawn on the day they would see Wyndsong, Miranda woke Amanda.

“It isn’t even light yet,” protested the sleepy, smaller twin.

“Don’t you want to see the sunrise over Orient Point?” Miranda pulled the covers away. “Get up, Mandy! Get up, or I’ll tickle you to death!”

“I think I’m going to prefer Adrian as a bedfellow to you, sister dear,” muttered Amanda, climbing reluctantly out of her warm nest. “Ohhh! This floor is like ice! You’re absolutely heartless, Miranda!”

Miranda raised a winged dark eyebrow in surprise as she handed Amanda her lace-trimmed, white muslin undergarments. “Prefer Adrian as a bedfellow? I am not sure if I am startled by your want of delicacy, or simply shocked, Mandy.”

“I may be younger, smaller, and slower than you, sister, but my emotions are well developed. After all, I know what love is. You do not. No one has ever touched your heart. Hand me my gown, will you?”

Amanda stepped into the high-waisted, puff-sleeved gown of pink sarcenet, and turned her back so Miranda might button her up. She could not see the perplexed look on Miranda’s face. Miranda felt very strange. She did not begrudge her sister happiness, but she had never not been first at anything. She quickly composed her face and, bending down, picked up her paisley shawl.

“Better take yours too, twin. It will be cold on deck.”

They came out onto the deck just as faint color was beginning to show in the east. The water was black and mirror-smooth. There was a very faint breeze in the sails, and as they stood facing the bow of the ship, they saw the coast of Long Island to
their right, through the gray mists of early morning. On their left, but farther away, the Connecticut coast lay shrouded in fog.

“Home,” breathed Miranda, hugging her shawl around her slim shoulders.

“It really means that much to you, doesn’t it?” said Mandy quietly. “Mother and Father are wrong, I fear. You will never love anyone as you love Wyndsong. It’s as if you are part of the land itself.”

“I knew you would understand!” Miranda smiled. “We have always understood each other. Oh, Mandy, I cannot bear to think that this cousin of Father’s will inherit it someday. It should be mine!”

Amanda Dunham squeezed her twin’s hand sympathetically. There was nothing she could do to change the situation, and nothing would soothe Miranda’s troubled spirit.

“So this is where you two minxes have gotten to, and at such an early hour, too.” Thomas Dunham flung his arms around his two daughters.

“Good morning, Papa!” they cried.

“And are my girls anxious to be home? Even you now, Amanda?”

They both nodded enthusiastically. Just then a brisk breeze suddenly sprang up and the remnants of fog disappeared. The sunrise spilled over the bluffs and dappled the green-blue waters with gold. The sky forecast a lovely, clear day.

“There’s the Horton’s Point lighthouse!” said Miranda excitedly.

“Then we’re almost home, darlings!” laughed Dorothea Dunham, coming out onto the deck. “Good morning, my daughters!”

“Good morning, Mama,” they called in cheerful unison.

“Good morning, m’dear.” Thomas gave her a loving kiss, which she returned.

The ship’s crew scurried around them, and Captain Hardy joined the Dunhams. “We’ll come around Orient Point and anchor toward the bayside, so your yacht can come about more easily. Will your people be long? There’s a good breeze with us, and if it keeps up I might make Boston by late tomorrow.”

“My yacht should be standing off Orient now.”

“Very good, sir. I appreciate your cooperation, and may I say
it’s been a great pleasure having you and your lady and daughters aboard my ship.” He turned to Amanda. “I hope we’ll have the pleasure of taking you back to England next summer, Miss Amanda.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Amanda blushing prettily, “but it is not yet official.” She fingered her ring.

“Then I shall not offer my felicitations until it is,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “I have a wife and daughter myself, and I know how important it is to you ladies to have all the proper amenities observed.”

“Sail ho!” came the cry from the crow’s nest.

“Can you make her out?” called back the captain.

“Baltimore clipper, sir. American flag.”

“Name and port?”

“She’s the
Dream Witch
out of Boston.”

“Hmmm.” The captain thought for a moment and then ordered, “Keep your present course, Mr. Smythe.”

“Aye, sir!”

They remained at the rail watching as the clipper made its way toward them. Suddenly a puff of whitish smoke came from the other vessel, followed by a dull boom that echoed across the water.

“By God! They’ve put a shot across our bow!” Captain Hardy was incredulous.

“
Royal George!
Stand to, and prepare to be boarded!”

“W-why, the insolence of them!” sputtered the captain.

“Are they pirates?” Miranda was fascinated, but Amanda shrank back next to her mother.

“No, miss, just the ragtag Yankee Navy being childish,” said the captain. Remembering his passengers’ nationality, he looked uncomfortable. “Begging your pardon.” But the Englishman seethed. He more than outgunned the small, elegant ship now slipping alongside his, but he carried valuable cargo, and passengers. He knew full well that this was simply a retaliatory attack being carried out in revenge for some piece of idiocy committed by the Royal Navy. His owners had been quite specific in their orders. Unless life or cargo was threatened he was not to fire his guns.

The clipper’s crew threw its grappling hooks into
The Royal George
.

“Make no resistance,” called Captain Hardy to his crew. “No need for alarm, ladies and gentlemen,” he reassured his passengers, who were now all milling around on deck.

When the two ships were safely locked together, a very tall, dark officer stepped aboard
The Royal George
from the American ship. The gentleman spoke to Captain Hardy, his voice low. At first they could not hear what he was saying, but then Captain Hardy’s voice rose. “There are most certainly no impressed men aboard my vessel, sir! I do not traffic in captives, American or otherwise!”

“Then you will not mind assembling your crew for inspection, sir,” the well-modulated voice replied.

“I bloody well do mind, but I’ll do it to end this stupidity! Bosun! Pipe the crew topside!”

“Aye, sir!”

Thomas Dunham had been staring hard at the American naval captain, and now a broad smile lit his features. What a coincidence! He began to push through the assembled passengers, waving his silver-headed cane as he went, and calling out, “Jared! Jared Dunham!”

In the rigging of the clipper a sharpshooter placed there to oversee the decks saw movement in the crowd below. He saw a man push out onto the open deck and rush toward his captain, waving what appeared to be a glinting weapon. Being a hothead and a glory seeker, he waited for no order. Instead, he drew a bead on his target, and fired.

Thomas Dunham clutched at his chest as the echo of the shot rang out over the water. He had a look of stunned surprise on his smiling face as he glanced down and saw blood seeping between his fingers. Then he fell forward. For a moment no one moved, and there was complete silence. Then the English captain broke the spell, rushing forward, and bending down to seek for a pulse. There was none. He looked up, horrified. “He’s dead.”

“
Thomas!
” Dorothea Dunham fainted and Amanda collapsed with her.

The face of the American captain had turned dark with fury. “Hang that man!” he shouted, pointing up. “I gave specific orders that there would be no shooting!”

What happened next happened very quickly. From out of the crowd a tall girl wth silver-blond hair launched herself at the
American. “
Murderer!
” she shrieked, pummeling him. “You have killed my father! You have killed my father!” He tried to protect himself from her blows, catching at her arms.

“Please, miss, it was an accident. A terrible accident, but the culprit is already punished. See!” He pointed to his ship where the unfortunate sharpshooter was already hanging from the rigging, a frightening lesson to others who might be tempted to disobey orders. Harsh discipline was the law of the sea.

“How many other deaths are you responsible for, sir?” The hate emanating from her icy green-blue eyes shocked him. She was so painfully young to hate so fiercely. A strange thought flitted into his mind. Would she love as violently as she hated?

He had little time to wonder. She whirled away from him, turned, and whirled back as quickly. He felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. For a moment his vision blurred, and with surprise he realized that he’d been stabbed. The blood was seeping through his jacket, and his shoulder hurt like the very devil.

“
Who the hell is that wildcat?
” he demanded as the English captain gently disarmed her.

“This is Mistress Miranda Dunham,” said Captain Hardy. “It is her father, Thomas Dunham, the lord of the manor of Wyndsong Island, that your man shot.”

“Tom Dunham of Wyndsong? Good God! He is my cousin!” The American knelt and gently turned the dead man over. “Dear Lord! Cousin Tom!” Horror passed across his face. Then Jared Dunham looked up. “There are two daughters,” he said. “Where is the other?”

The surrounding crowd parted, and Captain Hardy pointed to two prostrate women being ministered to by other female passengers. “His wife, and Miss Amanda.”

Jared Dunham stood up. He was pale, but his voice held authority. “Transfer them and their luggage to my ship, Captain. And the body of my cousin as well. I will return them to Wyndsong.” He sighed deeply. “I last saw my cousin in Boston three years ago. I’ve never been to the island, and he asked me if I didn’t think it was time I came to see it. I said no, that I expected him to live to a ripe old age. How macabre that I should first see my inheritance while bringing home my cousin’s body.”

“Your inheritance?” Captain Hardy was clearly puzzled.

Jared Dunham gave a bitter laugh. “My inheritance, sir. An inheritance I sought to avoid. Before you lies the body of the late
Lord of Wyndsong Manor. Before you stands the new Lord of Wyndsong Manor. I was my cousin’s heir. Is it not ironic?”

Miranda had been standing weeping silently since she had been disarmed. Now the full impact of his words penetrated her shocked, numbed mind.
This man!
This arrogant man who was responsible for her father’s death was the Jared Dunham who was to take Wyndsong away from her!!

“
No!
” she shouted, and both men turned startled faces to her. “
No!
” she repeated. “
You cannot have Wyndsong!
I will not let you have Wyndsong!” and, hysterical, she began once again to flay wildly at him.

He was weak from his wound, which was already aching like Hades. He was somewhat in shock himself, and his patience was just about at an end, yet he heard the pain in her young voice. He had obviously taken more than her father from her, although he did not fully understand. “Wildcat,” he said regretfully, “I am truly sorry,” and then his fist made contact with her little chin, and reaching out swiftly with his good arm he caught her as she fell. For a moment he gazed down at her tear-stained little face, and in that moment Jared Dunham was lost.

His own first mate leapt forward, and he transferred his unconscious burden to the man with a sad reluctance. “Take her aboard the
Dream Witch
, Frank,” and then he turned to Captain Hardy. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me, sir?” he asked.

“That, sir,” said the Englishman with a half smile, “will depend on the size of her bruise, I fear.”

    Chapter 3    

M
IRANDA OPENED HER EYES
. S
HE WAS IN HER OWN BEDROOM
. Above her was the dearly familiar green and white homespun linen canopy. She closed her eyes. Wyndsong! She was safely home with Mandy, Mama, and Papa.
Papa!
Oh, God, Papa! Memory returned.